


No Time Like The First Time

by denilmo



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, i still love me some KakaIru, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9542567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denilmo/pseuds/denilmo
Summary: Written long ago for a prompt about Kakashi's first time with Iruka... and I figured I'd be cheesy as hell and make it first time with another man, period.The jounin’s heart speeds as dark eyes rake over him and he knows that there will be no turning back - he doesn’t want to turn back. He wants to go forward, go wherever this path is taking him and if he gets a little lost on it, well, wouldn’t that be a quirky little anecdote to use.





	

Lips, with eyes closed, feel just like lips. Soft, pliant, warm.  
Lips - whether a man’s or woman’s - could be eager, or tender.  
Currently, it’s a wonderful combination of both.  
  
Warm shoulders - broad shoulders - sit beneath battle-worn hands. It’s amazing how soft they feel in contrast, he thinks.  
  
“Iruka…”  
  
That breathy moan of his name - heady, needy - it’s dizzying (Did he really say it like that?). It’s stifling. Gods, he can’t breathe. But his chest is rising and falling, and with each exhale there’s a noise that he can’t be all too sure that he’s making.  
  
But the twist of deft fingers around hardened nipples and the hum of approval confirms that yes, he is making those noises.  
  
He feels so good; his nerve endings - every fibre of his being - is alive with a gentle thrumming. The Copy nin can’t remember the last time he felt this way. His blood, like lava, pulses through his veins. It pounds heavily in his ears. But never loud enough to drown out those whimpers and whispers and gasps as hips grind against him.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
Those little words forming that simple question seem to throw Kakashi out of whatever dream-like state he was in. His lone eye turns up, finally opening, and meeting the deep chocolate gaze of the person before him.  
  
He doesn’t answer right away, he’s unsure of how to. All he knows is that he’s captivated; he’s curious, and eager, and … a little scared.  
  
He never thought he’d be here in this moment. In his room. With this person.  
  
“If you’re not ready-”  
  
His hand shoots out to take him by the wrist, to stop him from moving. “No!”   
  
Brows raise in question and the Copy nin’s ears redden. “You just felt so good… and… I-I couldn’t…”  
  
There’s a quiet laugh. “I rendered the great Hatake Kakashi immobile.”  
  
His voice is light, warm-natured (and maybe a little smug). It does strange things to his insides and Kakashi offers a light chuckle of his own as his fingers tap the scar running across the bridge of the tanned nose. “I’ll show you immobile.”  
  
The younger sensei laughs as he’s tackled, as his body is supported by creaky mattress and thick blankets. Kakashi looks down, mesmerized by the coffee-colored tresses that fan out around the chuunin’s head like a dark halo. His heart jumps and skips. He hasn’t ever gone this far with another man before, but he figures (he knows, really) that since it’s with this man, it’s ok. More than okay.   
  
He dips his head and captures lips, pouty and kiss-bruised and perfect, and glides his tongue in. He’s welcomed whole heartedly and Kakashi thinks that he truly does want to render him immobile, to let him know what it feels like. And he sets about his task.  
  
His dark hair is soft, it smells clean like spring days with laundry on the line to dry. The jounin pulls his fingers through it as his lips press ghost-like against the sensei’s cheek. Their chests are pressed together, all lean muscle and delicate skin, and Kakashi thinks he can feel the other man’s heart pounding fiercely.  
  
And beneath the thin pieces of fabric that remains around their waists (the only barrier that’s left) he _knows_ he can feel the sensei’s arousal, the proof of how undeniably turned on he is. With the slightest hesitation, the jounin lets his hand travel down the side of his soon to be lover, over ribs and the tantalizing V-cut, beneath the elastic band and to the hot hardness. Carefully, he wraps his fingers around it, stroking lightly, teasingly.  
  
The sounds falling from those lips are heavenly and Kakashi craves for more, as if they’re the source of his oxygen. The man under his touch is undulating his hips, seeking out more and more. The touch is not enough, or maybe it’s too much. Fascinated, the Copy nin lowers himself and closes wet lips around a hardened peak, sucking the tiny pebble between his teeth and reveling in the hiss that the sensei pulls through his mouth.  
  
Fingers entwine in his storm-cloud locks, tugging and then holding him unbearingly close, as bliss first ripples and then streams through Iruka’s body. “Kakashi…”  
  
A smirk works its way across his lips as he pulls away, half-lidded gaze falling on thoroughly flushed features, fingers still stroking. “Yes?”  
  
“I can’t take it anymore,” the sensei admits between breaths. “I want you, now.”  
  
And Kakashi finds himself hesitating again; it’s not that he’s unsure, but that he’s nervous. Was Iruka really saying that he wanted him inside of him? What if he hurt him? Went too fast? Came before he did? Or, a small part of his brain prodded him, performed unsatisfactorily? Kakashi blushed; he felt like a virgin all over again.  
  
A large, warm hand pressed against his chest and Kakashi looked up, taken back by the sincere expression worn plainly on the chuunin’s face. “We’ll go slow. Well, as slow as I can afford to take it.”  
  
Iruka takes the initiative; he removes his boxers and fights the blush that threatens to spread as Kakashi eyes him intimately. The Copy nin thinks that the chuunin’s body is gorgeous. He’d seen his fair share of male anatomy, but this man… there’s something that’s just different, and he likes it. He likes the cut of taut muscle, that strength that belies how sensitive he is. He likes the way the light casts tiny shadows across his pectorals and the way his hair cascades around his shoulders. He likes the way Iruka touches him, gently and with purpose, as he coaxes the boxer-briefs from around his creamy hips and down his fair thighs.  
  
The jounin’s heart speeds as dark eyes rake over him and he knows that there will be no turning back - he doesn’t want to turn back. He wants to go forward, go wherever this path is taking him and if he gets a little lost on it, well, wouldn’t that be a quirky little anecdote to use.  
  
Lips press against his thigh and continue upward and Kakashi realizes that he’s drowning in anticipation, and as their lips meet again, he can tell that Iruka is drowning as well. He can taste it on his tongue and feel it as he settles across his lap.  
  
“Just relax, and if you feel like taking over, you can,” Iruka whispers against his lips.   
  
It takes all Kakashi has to nod. Screw butterflies, there’s a dozen chidoris turning in his stomach, and each breath, each beat of his heart, adds to the pleasurable electric pulse. Kakashi had known in the back of his mind how this was going to happen, but to feel himself push beyond the ring of muscle, to be enclosed in such tight heat - it was nothing like he had ever known.  
  
To watch the chuunin’s face contort this way and that - in pleasure or pain or both or something entirely different and without a title - ignited some fire deep within the jounin that he thought had long been extinguished.  
  
And it started slow, allowing them time to adjust; Iruka took him inch by inch, moving with confidence as he increased the tempo. Kakashi was left to endure, to watch his lover move atop him, to feel the snug passage as it fit perfectly around him. He saw the chuunin in new light, wonderment filtering his gaze.  
  
And when he was ready, he did take charge. The sensei looked up from flat on his back, amazed by the sight of pleasure, of pure bliss, that graced the jounin’s features. The sweat that blazed a trail down the side of his face mingled with his own.   
  
“It feels.. you feel so… incredible,” the Copy nin husked, not even completely aware that he was speaking.  
  
“You, too.”  
  
And then Kakashi could feel a hand on his face and he let it lead him to lips and hungry tongue, and he devoured and was devoured. And whimpers became moans. And their harsh breaths united in the space between them, fingers linked, limbs shook and Kakashi couldn’t remember where he ended and Iruka began - and as scary as the feeling was, he treasured it.  
  
Then Iruka came and Kakashi was sure that there wasn’t another sound like it in the world.  
  
And Kakashi could have died as the chuunin’s body trembled maddeningly around him, urging him without words to _come for me_. And like every cliche pornographic scene he had ever read in Icha Icha, Kakashi felt winded by euphoria - consumed by fire, shaken by the force of his orgasm, had spots dance before his eyes, was blinded and overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his release - and felt that perhaps there was more truth behind Jiraiya’s words than he originally thought.  
  
And in the quiet moments afterward, there was a kind of peace that the Copy nin hadn’t discovered before - a kind of contentment that he hadn’t known existed. Completely sated, wrapped up in each other, Kakashi drew his fingers through dark tresses.  
  
Surprising Iruka, he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to his nose. The sensei only smiled and pulled himself closer to him - as if it were possible.   
  
As fingers caressed over scars and “accidentally” brushed against nipples, and lips pecked at the underside of his jaw, Kakashi could feel the faint beginnings of want stir within him again.  
  
Perhaps a second time would be in order.


End file.
